What kind of life journeys have today’s leading scientists taken? What thoughts, doubts, and inspirations have shaped their pursuit of the unknown?
Inventor’s Vision is a series of interviews that delve into the personal stories behind scientific innovation. In this edition, we speak with Naoji Matsuhisa, Associate Professor at the Research Center for Advanced Science and Technology, The University of Tokyo.
Matsuhisa’s research centers on interactive devices made from soft nanoelectronic materials. By enabling materials like rubber and gel to conduct electricity, he is developing wearable electronics so soft and flexible that they feel almost indistinguishable from human skin.
Working at the intersection of multiple disciplines, Matsuhisa has encountered numerous challenges throughout his research career. How has he overcome those obstacles? In this in-depth conversation, he shares what sparked his interest in electronics, what drove him to become a researcher, and what he learned from his time at top institutions overseas—including Stanford University.
▼Read the previous article here
Following Curiosity into the World of Electronics
— What first drew you to the field of electronic engineering?
There were several factors, but one clear influence was my father, who was an amateur radio enthusiast. I think he secretly hoped I’d grow up to love amateur radio too. When I was little, he often took me to the electronics district in Nipponbashi, Osaka, where we lived at the time.
In the end, I didn’t quite become the radio-loving kid he imagined (laughs), but being surrounded by machines and components from a young age definitely laid the groundwork for my interest in electronics.
I also think I was heavily influenced by the era I grew up in. During my childhood, many of the everyday devices around me were rapidly evolving. One good example is the television, which I loved as a kid. That was the time when TVs were transitioning from bulky CRT models to sleek LCD screens. Mobile phones were also undergoing a unique evolution in Japan, with countless “feature phone” models being released.
Being exposed to these kinds of technological changes made a strong impression on me—and I think that environment played a big role in sparking my interest in researching and developing new kinds of electronics.
— That early experience eventually led you to pursue electronic engineering at the University of Tokyo, correct?
Yes, that’s right. That said, the University of Tokyo doesn’t assign students directly to a specific faculty upon admission. In the first two years, all students study in the College of Arts and Sciences. After that, based on grades and interests, students select their specialization in a system known as “shinfuri”.
Fortunately, I was in a position where I could choose from a wide range of departments. My older brother advised me, “You should pick your major based on the lab you want to join.” Taking his advice, I decided on the Department of Electrical and Electronic Engineering because there was a lab there that really interested me.
At the time, a lab focused on soft electronics had just moved from the Department of Applied Physics to Electrical Engineering. I looked at different options—what I could study, the faculty, the popularity of each department—and after much deliberation, I decided to follow what seemed the most exciting. In the end, it turned out to be a great choice, and I’m really glad I went with what genuinely interested me.
— What led you to ultimately choose a research career, especially given the many career paths open to you?
A big part of it was realizing that a research career, where you can set your own direction, really suited my personality. I also wanted to work with people in academia whom I deeply respected.
Originally, I wasn’t aiming to become a researcher. When I first joined a lab as an undergrad, my plan was to finish my master’s degree and then work in industry. But my research went better than expected, and with encouragement from my advisor, I decided to enter a doctoral program.
The more I engaged in research, the more I discovered that I’m not the type to thrive under a fixed goal set by someone else. I prefer to explore different things guided by my own curiosity. Academia is a merit-driven world where each person takes responsibility for their own work and sets their own path. Many of the people I encountered were driven by conviction and passion for research, and I felt a strong connection with them. It’s a tough field, but I knew I wanted to be in a place where I could work with people I truly respect. That’s what ultimately led me to become a researcher.
Learning the Power of Diversity at Stanford
— After completing your graduate studies at the University of Tokyo, you spent time at universities in both Singapore and the U.S. What motivated you to pursue research abroad?
There were two main reasons. First, my graduate advisor strongly encouraged me to gain experience working with researchers from around the world if I wanted to continue in academia. Second, I personally wanted to challenge myself by completely changing my environment.
At the time, I was already one of the top members in my lab. Staying in that same comfortable position for too long didn’t feel right to me—it felt like I might become a “big fish in a small pond.” I wanted to see what I could do in a more competitive, unfamiliar setting. That’s what drove me to study abroad in the United States.
Before going to the U.S., I spent a short time at Nanyang Technological University in Singapore. That was part of a collaborative program with Stanford, and I was advised by my future Stanford supervisor to join it, as it offered funding and a solid research bridge. Although my time there was brief, I was able to produce some publications during that period.
— What kind of lab were you part of at Stanford?
I joined a lab focused on polymer materials. Even though my background is in electronic engineering, I wanted to study materials science more deeply. So I reached out to a well-known professor in that field—and thankfully, they accepted me into the group.
— What lessons or realizations did you take from your time at Stanford that you still carry with you today?
One of the most valuable things I learned was the importance of diversity in research. Stanford’s research facilities weren’t necessarily superior to those at the University of Tokyo. In fact, many of the labs at Stanford were still using older equipment, whereas the University of Tokyo often has the latest, world-class technology.
And yet, Stanford consistently produces outstanding research and influential papers. So what’s the secret? It’s the people. Stanford attracts individuals from incredibly diverse backgrounds. When those people come together and exchange ideas, great research emerges—even without the most cutting-edge equipment. Just bringing different perspectives into the same room can spark ideas that lead to truly innovative work.
That experience deeply influenced how I now run my own lab. Even though it’s an electronics lab, we also work on organic synthesis, and we have members from companies in the materials chemistry field doing collaborative research. We’re also actively working with researchers from bio and life sciences. I strongly believe that interacting with people from different fields is what leads to the most exciting and impactful research.
https://x.com/naoji_tokyo/status/1907241096285172040
A Slump During My Postdoc Taught Me the Importance of Not Shouldering Everything Alone
— What has been the most difficult period in your research career so far?
I think the most challenging time was during my postdoc. Research on soft electronics is highly interdisciplinary, and it requires knowledge from a wide range of fields. For example, to alter molecular structures, you need expertise in organic synthesis. If you want to develop those altered molecules into materials suitable for electronic devices, you need a solid understanding of materials chemistry. Then, of course, building functioning devices requires deep knowledge of electronics. And if you want to verify whether these devices can actually be worn on the human body, you need to collaborate with researchers in biology or medicine.
Exploring across disciplines is fascinating in many ways, but it can also be incredibly difficult. Back then, I tried to understand and master everything on my own—all the knowledge and techniques required for the research.
So when I finished my Ph.D. and started my research at Stanford, I hit a wall. My experiments weren’t going well, and I struggled a lot. I had entered a slump.
— What helped you overcome that difficult period?
The turning point came when I finally opened up to my wife, who had come with me to the U.S.
Up until I arrived at Stanford, things had gone quite well for me in research. By the time I finished my Ph.D., I had produced strong results. I joined a university in Singapore right after and managed to write a paper in just about three months. So when I left for Stanford, I was feeling pretty confident.
But once I actually started working there, that confidence was quickly shattered. Even after a year and a half, the project I was working on showed little progress. I was stuck, and I didn’t know how to move forward.
At one point, I even shaved my head, thinking maybe a dramatic change would give me a mental reset. But when I saw my reflection in the glass during an experiment, I realized that no change in appearance would magically solve my problems. I just felt miserable—and changing your mindset doesn’t instantly lead to results.
That’s when I finally opened up to my wife about what was happening in the lab. I hadn’t really talked about work much with her before, but she listened and then simply said, “Why don’t you go back and look at the advice others in your lab have given you?” That one sentence really struck me. I immediately went back through my research notes and memos—and there it was. I found a comment that helped me break through the problem.
Since then, I’ve learned not to try to carry everything alone. I now make a conscious effort to find the right collaborators, ask for help when I need it, and create an atmosphere where people feel comfortable offering their input.
That’s why I believe my lab has a particularly strong culture of collaboration. I encourage everyone to recognize the boundaries between what they can do and what others can do, and to rely on each other appropriately. I think that mindset has really taken root across the whole team.
— You mentioned that you try to create an environment where people feel comfortable offering their input. What specific attitudes or practices do you focus on in your day-to-day communication?
With students especially, I try to bring humor into our interactions whenever I can. I also make it a point to genuinely praise their accomplishments when they do well. It’s a bit like the saying “kindness begets kindness”—I don’t give compliments expecting anything in return. But when I sincerely express appreciation for someone’s strengths or achievements, I find that it moves them emotionally. Over time, those words and that attitude create a positive dynamic, and that has a real impact on my own research, too.
Communication Skills Are Essential for Researchers Too
— Is there a particularly memorable moment from your research journey that stands out to you?
There are two that come to mind.
The first happened during my doctoral studies, when I truly grasped the essence of what it means to do research. At the time, I was working on a project mixing silver with rubber to create conductive materials. For some reason, one of the materials showed unexpectedly good properties. I didn’t know why, but I formed a hypothesis and examined its structure under an electron microscope. What I discovered was that the internal structure was completely different from what I had imagined. That moment made me realize that research is fundamentally a dialogue with nature—and that patient observation is absolutely essential.
The second moment taught me the importance of human connection and communication. During my postdoc, I became friends with a student from Korea who had come to the U.S. on a scholarship. One day, he submitted a paper to Nature Materials, one of the most prestigious journals in the field, but it was quickly rejected.
I believed in the value of his research, so the moment I heard about the rejection, I called him right away. I told him, “Your work is genuinely interesting—don’t give up!” and encouraged him for nearly an hour. That support seemed to help. He regrouped, revised his paper, and ultimately, it was accepted by Science, one of the world’s most renowned journals.
That experience taught me that how we treat people—and how we communicate—can play a key role in producing great research. It’s not just about ideas or experiments. Relationships matter.
— Both stories are fascinating. Especially the second one—it ties back nicely to what you said earlier and really reinforces how important communication is, even in the world of research.
Absolutely. Even as researchers, communication is essential. I truly believe that.
When people imagine a “cool” scientist, I think they often picture someone who spends all day in the lab, quietly running experiments and gradually arriving at some amazing discovery. I used to have that image in my head too. For a while, I even aspired to become one of those brilliant, solitary researchers.
But through my experiences—especially during my postdoc and through meeting so many different kinds of researchers—my perspective has shifted. Nowadays, I’ve started to think that maybe communication is one of my strengths compared to other scientists. Just last week, I was in Seattle, and several friends reached out to me saying, “Hey, since you’re in town, let’s catch up!” I really appreciate those connections.
That said, I wasn’t always good at building relationships. In fact, I used to be pretty bad at communication.
— That’s surprising! Based on everything you’ve shared today, it doesn’t seem that way at all.
If that’s how it came across, then I’d say it’s thanks to the training I did with a very outgoing friend during college. Up until my first year of university, I couldn’t even hold eye contact with girls when talking to them. (laughs)
In high school, people would say, “Your eyes dart all over the place when you talk.” And I still remember my first welcome party for a university club—I sat across from a female student and felt like she was from a completely different world. I was so flustered I could barely speak.
— I never would have guessed! Hearing that makes you feel much more relatable. As a closing thought, many people drift away from the academic world after graduating. Is there a message you’d like to share with those who might feel disconnected from science?
When people hear words like “research” or “science,” they often react with a kind of mental barrier, thinking, “That sounds difficult.” But there are actually many areas of research—like mine—that are fairly easy to understand and genuinely interesting, even for the general public.
You don’t have to fully grasp every detail. Instead of thinking “this is too hard,” I encourage people to follow their curiosity—just go with “this seems kind of cool.” Even just experiencing a researcher’s passion or getting a feel for what research is like can lead to discoveries and learning.
So please, don’t hesitate to peek into the world of research. I hope you’ll meet researchers who inspire you and make you think, “This is fascinating—I want to learn more.” Keep communicating with different researchers until you find someone whose sense of wonder resonates with your own.
Profile
Naoji Matsuhisa
Associate Professor, Research Center for Advanced Science and Technology (RCAST), The University of Tokyo.
Naoji Matsuhisa received his B.S. in Electrical and Electronic Engineering from the University of Tokyo in 2012. He then pursued his graduate studies under Professor Takao Someya at the same university, earning his Ph.D. in Engineering in 2017.
Following his doctoral studies, he conducted postdoctoral research at Nanyang Technological University in Singapore and Stanford University in the United States. In 2020, he was appointed as a full-time lecturer at Keio University, while also serving as a PRESTO researcher for the Japan Science and Technology Agency (JST).
In 2022, he joined the Institute of Industrial Science at the University of Tokyo as an associate professor and assumed his current position at RCAST in 2023.
His research focuses on the development of next-generation wearable technologies through the use of soft nanoelectronic materials for interactive devices. He also contributes to the advancement of the field as the chair of the Flexible & Stretchable Electronics Research Group.
(Interview & Text: Teruko Ichioka / Photo: Kayo Sekiguchi)
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